


Paperwork Blues

by RussianWitch



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Oral Sex, Relationship(s), Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: After the Governor's office calls to complain, Danny checks on the location of the team and goes back to reading his newspaper confident that with traffic being what it is, he'll have the time to finish the sports pages.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> not beta'd
> 
> Each chapter is a standalone story.  
> They are posted out of sequence.

After the Governor's office calls to complain, Danny checks on the location of the team and goes back to reading his newspaper confident that with traffic being what it is, he'll have the time to finish the sports pages. 

Kono is the first to blow into the bullpen, chatting at the air confident that at least Steve will be able to hear her. Then Steve and Chin follow a hysterical prisoner boxed in between them, it's quite a sight: one that gives Danny a by now familiar headache. Visually checking his team for injuries he takes his time rolling up the newspaper into a tightly before exciting his office. Steve flashes him a grin that would usually have him feeling a tingle in the naughty bits, but now only annoys him even further. 

Slapping the head of H50 over the head with a newspaper in full view of a criminal is probably bad form, but considering the earful he's just gotten, Danny isn't feeling particularly charitable. "Bad Sentinel! Bad, bad Sentinel!" He hears Kono giggling at his back, and spins around furiously. "You! Rooky! Don't think you don't deserve any of this! Like I don't know you encourage his insanity every chance you get!" She tries and fails to look serious, 'at least she tries' Danny sighs to himself, and trying is something. 

Slightly mollified Danny turns back at his primary prey—who's by now pouting, and looking for all intents and purposes like a kicked puppy. "No! No, you do not get to give me The Eyes! Don't you dare, or I'll hit you again!" He shakes a finger under the tell man's nose until Steve leans down to rub a scratchy cheek against his hand with a weird half purr, half chirp that shouldn't come from a human throat. "The governor called me! Me! Steven, not you! He expects me to keep you in line! And do the paperwork when you go off leash! Do you know how much paperwork there is?" Nuzzling turns into nipping and Danny has to fight to hang on to his anger, which is enraging in itself. He pokes Steve in the ribs with the rolled up newspaper. "Are you even listening to me, McGarrett?" 

"Yeah—, Danno." Steve sounds stoned, maybe fucked out like in between rounds when he's taking up 90% of the bed too lazy to roll over. Last time Danny heard that tone was the previous weekend after spending several hours screwing his Sentinel six ways from Sunday as a reward for cooperating with the annual health exam. Steve had been dehydrated, barely coherent but still reaching for Danny, whining for more. Sentinel stamina: got to love it. "Steven!" He snaps again, and finally Steve seems to shake his victory haze off and focus on his Guide properly. "We got the bad guy, Danno. Before he managed to get off the island." 

"Wrecking half a neighborhood on the way to the airport in the process despite having the plane number which meant that the man could have been picked up on landing." Danny doesn't bother with the rest of the rant, this isn't the first time they've had this discussion, this probably won't be the last: that's why he's resorting to the newspaper approach. "Sorry?" Steve shrugs, not looking particularly bothered. "I'll make it up to you?"  

"There are not enough maladasa's in the world for you to make this up to me! You couldn't even make this up to me if you gave me back my car! You couldn't make it up to me with a vacation back to New Jersey!" 

Before he can think of anything else Steve could possible offer, "He could blow you while you fill in the forms like the last time!" Kono cheerfully suggest from the doorway of her office before slamming the door shut against Danny's curses leaving him trapped in a small room with an adrenaline junky on a high, and a pile of paperwork. 

"McGarrett! If you even think—!" Steve shoves him hard, kicking his good leg from under him and Danny is falling, thankfully into chair but falling none the less. 

"Shut up, Danno!" The Sentinel kicks his legs apart, dropping to his knees between them tall body folding in on itself as Steve gets comfortable. "Sit back and relax already!" 

Annoyed, Danny grabs for Steve's hair intent on shaking some sense into the infuriating man, but his arms are knocked away. "Steven—!" He tries again, but is ignored as Steve's too talented fingers free him from his slacks. Steve swallows him down without a flinch, is nosing at Danny's pubic hair leaving Danny scrambling for brain cells to continue his protests. If anyone comes across them—they won't get in too much trouble because the rest of the team is awesome and special provisions cover a lot of unexpected Sentinel behavior, but the governor isn't going to be happy.  

That's what he gets for bonding with a Sentinel the Navy trained all common sense out of years before Danny came across him. He still wishes that he hadn't gone to the McGarrett residence that fateful day, if he's been a good little drone and had gone back to his desk instead of to check the crime scene again he wouldn't have come across the bastard and—missed out on a borderline mental breakdown, and hours of mind blowing sex he's now getting on a regular basis. 

Steve moans around his dick looking up coyly, working Danny's slacks further down until he's touching bare skin, encouraging Danny to fuck his mouth. Blowjob or not, he's still too pissed with the Sentinel to allow the appeasement. Grabbing Steve by the hair, Danny forces him back enjoying the way the Sentinel strains against his grip trying to get more of Danny down his throat. Annoyed with the disobedience, he extricates himself from Steve's mouth slapping him sharply across the face when he complains. "No! This is not fun, Steven! You don't get what you want until you prove yourself a good boy again, now sit back and open your mouth!" 

It does something to Danny to see the mutiny in Steve's eyes, the way the Sentinel has to actively fight it down to do as he's told. Steve ran wild for far too long, and now Danny gets to undo decades of bad habits. 

Not that he's complaining. 

Once Steve is in position, he guides himself into the welcoming mouth thrusting deep. Steve gags around him, but doesn't protest even as Danny's dick pushes down his throat robbing him of breath. Cruelly he doesn't allow Steve to draw breath for long moments, he's a SEAL after all: he's supposed to know how to hold his breath for a long time. Only when the Sentinel's eyes are watering, does Danny let up allowing him a few breaths before doing it again. 

Looking down he notes the bulge straining Steve's cargos, clearly visible with long legs spread wide to allow Danny close. The sight give Danny bad ideas, Steve usually does when abasing himself. He wasn't sure what it was that Steve got from submitting, but it had to be something or else he wouldn't use the flimsiest of excuses to get on his knees.  

Some of the literature Danny got from the Center after things settled down suggested it was an instinctive urge to serve—But Danny figured serving in the armed forced should have taken care of that instinct, and after meeting a few other guardian couple he became convinced that Steve was just kinky that way, not that he was complaining. 

Steve moans pitifully, displeased by Danny's distraction but unwilling to use his usual tactic of annoying Danny until he had his undivided attention, and against his better judgment Danny shifts his weight and nudges Steve's trapped dick with his foot. 

"This is why you do it, isn't it?" Danny groans, rubbing the sole of his loafer against Steve's crotch. "Because you get off on getting reamed." Steve grunts around Danny's dick in something like agreement, flinching when Danny puts more weight on his foot, but doesn't pull away. It's almost enough for Danny to forget where they are— He grabs Steve roughly by the hair, fucking into his mouth as deep as he can imagining a collar around Steve's throat tight enough he'd be able to feel it while fucking—or maybe a nice dark green tie. 

"I'll deal with you when we get home." He pants, falling back into his chair once the aftershocks stop, looking down at Steve wild eyed and disheveled kneeling on the floor. The Sentinel looks obscene, something out of a porn movie with his mouth swollen from use, cheeks glossy with come and spit. "You're a mess, my friend." He adds, snagging some tissues from the desk drawer to first clean himself, than rolling himself over to Steve to clean his face. "Had you waited until we got off work like a civilized human being, I could have left you a mess since I know how much you like it." The Sentinel twitches, but leans into Danny's touch. "Now I have to clean you up instead." 

"You can always mess me up again, later?" Steve suggests hopefully. 

"Or I can go stay at the Center for the night because I need advice about being bonded to a Sentinel who's brain shuts down as soon as he smells a bad guy." Not that he'd ever do that to Steve, or himself for that matter. Steve growls his displeasure. Danny isn't sure if it's at the mention of his least favorite organization, or the threat of having to spend the night alone. "Be a good boy and do your share of the paperwork for once, and I might be persuaded—," Danny offers, already wondering how much of it will need to be done again after Steve finishes with it. 

Pile of paperwork in hand, Steve swoops in for a biting, filthy kiss that leaves Danny's brain scrambled as Steve bounds away to his own office. 

Danny really hates his life sometimes.     


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not betaed

Danny does understand that it's biology that's tripping them up.

He really does read through all the literature and everything, because if he's going to be sore and chafed, and _frustrated_ all the time he's going to damn well know why.

It's simple really: Steve has heightened senses, which means he can smell every little shift in hormones or pheromones or any other -mones or whatever, and if Danny gets turned on by something, by _anything_ —Steve gets turned on because he gets off on Danny getting turned on, and that feeds back to Danny because an aroused Steve is a happy Steve and he projects, like a damn lighthouse. With the damn empathic link between them, Danny can't escape Steve's horny and the feelings get bounced between them amplifying over and over again until even Danny's brain goes offline and they end up screwing somewhere officers of the law have no business screwing or getting late to crime scenes.

Danny curses and arches up into Steve's mouth trying not to think about the likelihood of other hikers coming up or down the trail, getting treated to the sight of Steve having him for lunch.

He had not planned on this, at all.

What he had planned is to indulge the crazy idiot he's bonded to by not complaining too much while getting dragged through the wildness for the day, and maybe a nice picnic along the way. He hadn't counted on dealing with said crazy idiot going feral during lunch. 

Steve's tongue drills into him, does some freakish twisty, squirmy thing and despite his best efforts, a dirty moan escapes him.

If there was any change of Danny being able to stop this whole thing in its tracks, it flies out of the window right then. He reaches down blindly, digging his fingers into Steve's hair and tugging hard. It takes a few yanks before he manages to make Steve meet his eyes, pupils blown wide enough that the green is barely visible.

"Up here, babe," he coaches. As much as he loves Steve's mouth, they'll sure to be caught if he doesn't speed things up.

Steve manages to get enough brain cells together to obey, dragging his body up, trembling with need, his dick dragging heavily along Danny's thigh. His body tightens with anticipation, a memory of fear setting his nerves on edge, getting fucked had taken some getting used to. Steve makes a noise that might be meant to comfort him and nuzzles at Danny's throat until he gets himself under control.

"You are a mess, aren't you, babe?" Danny grumbles, reaching down the long body to take Steve in hand.

The thick dick slides through Danny's fingers as Steve starts to thrust, getting in the way of Danny trying to get him where the idiot wants to be.

Danny misses the rolled up newspaper.

That's what he gets for never joining the Boy Scouts.

"Work with me will ya?" He groans, squeezing harder, not that has had any effect on Steve before. If there is one thing Danny had never imagined having to do, is to actively fight to get someone's dick into his ass.

When Steve finally manages to push in, it's a relief, the tsunami of Steve's need breaks and their bond sings at the closeness.

Falling back, Danny groans as Steve fucks his way further in, annoying little thrusts that fill Danny up and stretch him out until it feels like soon he'll be feeling Steve in his throat any minute.

"Yeah, that's it, baby." He moans throwing a leg over a bony hip.

Steve growls in answer, stills for a moment and that's the only warning Danny gets before the sentinel lets go of the remnants of his control. He pulls out until all Danny can feel of Steve is the fat head of his dick, before slamming back in rough and deep.

If they were home, Danny would howl, as is, he bites his lip trying to swallow the yowl that's trying to get out. Steve fucks like there is no tomorrow: hips pistoning wildly, pushing Danny across the picnic blanket. Overbalancing in his enthusiasm, and slipping out, whining helplessly just as Danny manages to brace himself against the assault.

"Steven!" He growls, annoyed and getting desperate himself.

Making an executive decision, Danny pushes the sentinel away, hating that the hurt whines get to him even while doing what's best for the both of them. He's going to hate every step they'll have to take to get back to the car after this, Danny just knows it. He pushes Steve onto his back, and watches the angry looking dick wave in the damp air for a second, then throws a leg over the narrow hips, lining himself up and letting gravity do its thing. Steve huffs and buckles trying to get them back into their original position, but Danny growls right back, catches the sentinel's wandering hands and pins them. Steve struggles, but not much, as if even feral he needs to yield to his guide, needs to please.

In reward Danny rises, tightens his ass, milking Steve for all he's worth, then drops himself again, and again forcing them both towards orgasm. Thankfully Steve gets with the program soon enough, digging his heels in and pushing up every time Danny lets himself drop until he isn't sure which of them is moving, drowning in arousal and pleasure ricocheting between them making him dizzy with want and need.

They come one after the other, Danny cursing up a storm and Steve howling in triumph dropping into a tangled mess.

They are going to have to burn the blanket, Danny decides, forcing himself up on his elbows to squint down his languid partner.

Steve looks—like he's contemplating a nap, lazy eyed and unable to keep a huge grin off his face.

Danny prods him in the side sharply making himself sit up as Steve growls a protest.

"Come on, you animal, get up. We've been lucky so far, but tourists wait for no man or sentinel."

"No tourists." Steve grumbles.

"No tourists? On Hawaii? Yeah, sure babe." His shirt is a loss, Steve's has to be used for clean up. Thankfully they've managed to miss the backpack entirely, the rug—is a loss as expected—

"Chin called—they've quarantined this trail for the day." The sentinel shares, flopping over to his stomach to make himself comfortable on Danny's side. 

"What the hell do you mean they quarantined the trail?" Danny parrots, because they couldn't have—if the governor is going to lynch them if she hears about it.

"H5o has means remember?" Steve reminds him smugly.

"THIS ISN'T WHAT 'MEANS' ARE FOR YOU ANIMAL!" Danny howls, because he's the one who will be yelled at. His bastard of a sentinel pokes him in the ribs none too gently and closes his eyes.

"Shhhhhh," Steve mutters, "nap now, yell later."

If they weren't the only military grade Sentinel/Guide pair on the islands, the governor would probably have had them expelled from the state.


	3. Chapter 3

The ocean whispers in the background, the wood of the cottage creaks in the heat, around them the island breathes—and Danny misses the sounds of traffic, and the train thundering down the tracks in the distance misses the sounds of humanity around him.

Steve makes an unhappy sound against his abdomen, and Danny's hand is in his hair without conscious thought massaging away the tension that's started to gather there in response to—fuck, but they are going to have a hell of a time of it. The Sentinel's hand curled protectively, _possessively_ , around Danny's bad knee tightens minutely before Steve relaxes back into sleep. 

Danny wonders what the hell they are supposed to do now? Regulations state that they still have a month or so leave to go. Time to get to know each other, as it's generally explained because 90% of the time, the bonded couple are total strangers stuck together—He really doesn’t want to think about that. At least Steve is good in the sack, and not as obnoxious as Danny kind of expected him to be, and then there is the whole _pliant_ thing.

Everyone knows that Sentinels are slightly feral, aggressive and dominant for the lack of a better word. Mostly alpha males who are used to giving orders and having them obeyed, and Steve _is_ all that from what Danny has seen... Only he's also strangely vulnerable and far more eager to please than Danny could have ever imagined. Thinking about Steve's vulnerability gets Danny thinking about the previous night and the way Steve had done his best to please Danny in every way imaginable barely taking anything for himself. 

The memory of Steve straddling his lap, sinking down on his dick and the blissed-out look on his face when he bottomed out, these things will stay with Danny forever. His dick twitches and swells eager to push into the tight, wet heat of Steve's ass. He'd never seen the appeal before—but the way Steve looked and sounded riding him to orgasm—it's making Danny reconsider his likes and dislikes, a lot.

Steve makes a muffled noise, rolls around rubbing his face against Danny's skin and mouthing his way down to his crotch without bothering to open his eyes. Danny grits his teeth as stubble scrapes against the base of his dick as Steve blindly makes his way up, to swallow him down to the root.

"Fuck!" He grates, tightening his grip on Steve's hair. The Sentinel whines around his dick and swallows around him, tight and hot moaning as he fucks his mouth on Danny's flesh. "Babe!" He moans in encouragement trying to keep his hips from thrusting. "Your mouth!" They shouldn't be fucking, what they should be doing is talking, figuring out what the hell they are going to do now.

It isn't like Danny can just drop everything and go wherever Steve is sent to...but Steve's arousal is hot and wet against his side, just as impressive as the rest of the man, the prospect of getting that up inside of him is daunting—except Steve hasn't tried, had practically insisted on getting fucked instead.

Not what they should have been doing, not according to the paperwork Danny got shoved at him before they were shipped off to the cottage. Steve should have been fucking him, claiming him or whatever 'nice' term the paperwork had used. Danny had been a horny teenager once, he'd seen the porn, he'd known better at once.

Only Steve, Steve hadn't gotten with the program, still wasn't getting with the program! He reaches between Steve's legs, kneading the tight muscle of Steve's ass and shuddering when the sentinel moans his pleasure at the touch around Danny's dick taking him deeper.

If anyone had been doing any claiming, it had been Danny; he'd fucked Steve as hard as he'd dared, as hard as Steve demanded to be fucked and now, now he wants to see Steve's hole, wants to see his own claim on the dangerous man who's decided they belong together for some strange reason.

It doesn't take a lot of convincing for Steve to shift position, throw one long leg over Danny's chest, straddle his body, his ass practically in Danny's face red, swollen hole dripping Danny. He can't resist reaching out, tracing the overstretched muscle with the tip of a finger. Steve moans, and his hole twitches as if trying to catch Danny's finger and swallow it down.

"You like being full, don't you, babe?" He asks, giving Steve what he wants: pushing another finger into the sore hole scissoring the digits. Three fingers in and barely holding on to a few remaining as Steve blows his mind, Danny feels it.

He isn't sure how it starts, isn't even sure what 'it' is, but his mind feels different like he's expanding. His mind is expanding like an elastic stretching out to fill the room just as Steve shifts, doing something absolutely indecent to Danny's dick, as one finger pushes at Danny's hole just a little—

Danny comes, howling as the elastic snaps back.

When consciousness returns, his abdomen is wet and it isn't just him in his head any longer. There is someone else in there, like all of a sudden there is a frosted glass wall somewhere and just behind it, Danny can sense— _Steve_. He didn't expect there to be this much to feel behind the sentinel's facade, but there is a kaleidoscope of emotions shifting and mutating rapidly all around a core of—fear.

Steve is terrified that Danny will somehow change his mind and leave if Steve doesn't do something to keep him.

Steve is terrified that he will have to go back to being alone, to dampening his senses to keep his sanity, and slowly fade away zone after zone until one of them sends him so deep he won't be able to claw his way back from it...

"Oh, babe!" Danny finds himself mumbling, shoving and tugging until he and Steve are face to face again, Steve's face impossibly open and—the damn idiot is giving Danny everything while waiting for the other shoe to drop, and Danny still isn't sure he can do what's needed, and there are still thousands of details they really need to discuss…

 "Steve!" He doesn't know how to put these realizations into words, all Danny can do is pull Steve close, guide him down until they are cheek to cheek, find Steve's mouth blindly grimacing at the taste of himself but not allowing Steve to pull away because Danny has a strong suspicion that the sentinel needs the contact. "Steven! I'm—I can't believe I'm saying this," he sighs because this is the last thing he expected to do with his life, "I'm not going anywhere! So, stop with the puppy eyes! I have an eight-year-old daughter who does them better anyway, you, my friend, have a long way to go on that front!"

Steve ignores him, deciding to suck a bruise on Danny's throat instead until Danny forces him up for another kiss willing Steve to listen and actual hear him. "I.Am.Not.Leaving," he enunciates clearly projecting the words with every bit of him—something goes _ping_ , and Steve's happiness takes his breath away, or maybe it's the full weight of a frigging SEAL coming down on his chest because Steve goes limp all over him, like tension Danny hadn't even noticed has gone out of the high-strung man now that whatever that _ping_ was happened and...

"Did we just bond?" Danny asks himself out loud because that shouldn't have been _it_ , in fact, it didn't even come close to what the literature described. For starters: he hadn't gotten fucked, but Steve is slowly starting to beam at him looking so tragically fucking happy Danny can't even…

"I'm going to regret this soooo, much when the insanity wears off," he muses.

"No, you won't!" Steve, deciding to go verbal all of a sudden, tells him cheerfully, "you're with me now!" Like that's any kind of incentive, except that it is, Danny now knows because if he makes an effort he can practically see into Steve's brain which is very, extremely disconcerting. 

"Are you going to let me up now?" He wonders, reluctantly prodding Steve in the ribs until his hands are pinned to the mattress.

"Maybe?" Steve smiles down at him, looking younger than his years, practically going starry eyed. They really have to talk, to plan even, because Danny has a kid, and Steve has a career and those aren't exactly compatible and that's just the immediate stuff...

"If you let me up, I can make pancakes?" He tries, having gotten used to bribery in the house some time ago for the sake of efficiency, Steve perks up, even letting Danny's wrists go bracing himself on Danny's chest instead. "You can even help." He offers already wondering if he isn't taking his life in his hands by letting Steve loose on whatever kitchen appliances the cottage holds. 


	4. Chapter 4

They return to Honolulu, and the Center actually allows them to go home after only a little hassling, and Rachel decides to not be a bitch and allow Danny to catch up on his Gracie time.

Life, as far as Danny is concerned, is pretty decent.

Even after Steve proves to be insane, Danny is still happy as a clam or would be if Steve didn't act so damn shifty—when he wasn't being a pest. Danny tries, as much as he can, between taking care of his kid and the case they catch almost as soon as they get back and the getting to know his new colleagues, to get a handle on his shiny new Sentinel.

Steve's insecurity is still pretty clear in the back of his mind, and Danny tries to reach out a couple of times, but Steve keeps coming up with excuses and arguments for Danny to not spend time with him so after a couple of weeks Danny gives up.

This is when Danny reminds himself that his life is pretty decent.

While they are on the job, everything works fine. Steve is exactly what Danny was led to believe he'd be: the take charge gung-ho hero type who leaves a trail of rubble and paperwork behind as he goes about cleaning up the islands. When he isn't going ballistic about the blatant disregard of every law known to man, Danny can sort of appreciate the single-mindedness and effectiveness of Steve's rampages, generally once his blood pressure goes down.

Occasionally, when he's lying in his crappy bed he allows himself to be disappointed that now that the hormones have worn off and the bond has been created—Steve has lost interest. It's a crying shame too, Danny wouldn't say 'no' to a repeat performance, or maybe an original performance since they now actually know each other a bit, and—well, Danny has gotten a bit more comfortable with the permanent bond idea.

He's even been thinking about sex with Steve, what it would be like to taste the sentinel all over. Danny is pretty sure he isn't going to get the same thing out of blowing Steve as the Sentinel got out of it, but he's kind of curious to see if he can make Steve come apart with just his mouth. Except that Steve is keeping his distance and between work, and Danny's inexperience with the whole bond, and other commitments on Danny's part figuring out what the hell Steve's problem is kind of falls to the wayside for a bit: they work, stuff works and after running around all day, Danny doesn't really have the energy to hunt down and interrogate his sentinel at the end of the day. 

Losing sleep isn't anything new to Danny, during his divorce, Danny can't remember sleeping more than four hours a night after Rachel decided to move and before he figured out a way to follow it had been even worse. He tends to stress, and ruminate on things he can't change in his life, which tends to keep him up pacing some nights—except that he doesn't really have anything to stress out about, Steve notwithstanding.

It actually takes him a bit to connect the sleeplessness to Steve, because that sort of thing wasn't mentioned in any of the documentation the Center saddled him with.

He's lying awake in the middle of the night, sweating through the sheets when he remembers the thing he 'saw' when they'd bonded. Now that he thinks about it, the window or whatever is easy to see and touch—and Steve is hurting. Whatever he's doing the sentinel is suffering and hadn't told Danny that there is a problem, never mind what the problem is. Considering what he now knows about Steve, Danny isn't really surprised, pissed off maybe, but not surprised because he'd thought he'd made himself clear—and of course, Steve hadn't believed him. Frustrated, Danny gives up on trying to sleep, throws a shirt on and decided to circle the block to maybe walk off some of the anger before trying again.

Seeing Steve's truck parked around the corner, isn't much of a surprise either, that no-one called the cops on him, kind of is. Getting up on the step, Danny squints into the cabin to see Steve curled up across the seat his knees wedged under the steering wheel somehow frowning in his sleep.

"You, McGarrett, are definitely going to be the death of me!" He sighs, slapping the truck window, "he! SuperSEAL!" And has to duck because Steve had actually been asleep and missed Danny's approach completely, and a startled Sentinel lashes out. A few confused moments of ducking later, Danny has his—whatever, leaning sulkily on the truck not meeting his eyes.

"My mom warned me about boys like you, you know! But did I listen?" He throws his hands up, pokes Steve in the ribs and gets part of a hazy glare and a growl in return, "you couldn't just come by like a normal human being?" He demands.

"I didn't want to—," he shifts awkwardly, "you've been here longer—and you have a kid, and I see you enough at work, I didn't want to interrupt stuff—," Steve shrugs vaguely trying to look sincere, but fails miserably by virtue of lack of sleep.

"Stuff?" Danny parrots, "I have stuff?" He wonders if he can't ask the Center to give him a saner model? Except that would probably kill any faith in humanity Steve still has, and Danny doesn't want to see that happen. "Do you even have the faintest idea what the aforementioned stuff might be?" He pushes, catching a suppressed flinch.

"Kid stuff?" Steve ventures, and Danny really, wants to explode, a lot, because he's bonded to an idiot.

Instead, he turns away, closing his eyes to do the breathing exercise that the marriage counselor tried to teach him, which had never worked that Danny could tell, still concentrating on his breathing means not concentrating on how much he wants to grab Steve and shake him until the man starts to make sense, "—whatever you need stuff?" Steve tries again, and Danny squeezes his eyes tighter, really shutting out the world—and that's when he feels it again: Steve's fear.

With a curse, he turns to the Sentinel, who looks like he's about to be put before a firing squad.

"We are not having this discussion in the middle of the street!" He decides, grabbing the sentinel by the elbow to drag back to his crummy apartment.

"I thought we'd already gone through this! Bonded and everything, remember? Three weeks of tropical paradise fucking each other silly!" Well, Danny fucking Steve, but it's not like anyone was keeping track—

"What's so bad about not wanting to mess up your daily routine?" Steve scowls, "kids need structure and—"

"How the hell would you know what a kid needs?" Danny snaps, " when was the last time you saw one close up?" Steve flinches, but Danny doesn't quite regret it, even if he's a little bit tempted to take the words back.

"You said you'd regret bonding after the hormones wear off, and I'm pretty sure they've worn off by now," Steve snaps back and that stops Danny cold right in his doorway.

"That—! That's what you got hung up on??" He can't help yell, because sleep deprivation doesn't do a lot for his emotional control, and they could have both been sleeping and possibly more if Steve hadn't decided to be a self-sacrificing idiot!

"It's kind of an important detail," Steve snaps, and okay, Danny has to concede that, maybe he should have worked harder at showing that—what exactly? They still know shit all about each other outside of work, whatever this is, it isn't a relationship, not yet, "and I don't go where I'm not welcome."

"Granted, I meant it when I said it! I usually do—," Danny sighs, flashing back to some of the fights he had with Rachel, "for about a minute, which, I'll grant you, you had no way of knowing," he shoves Steve through the door and into the cramped studio.

Steve's reaction to the place isn't pretty, the sentinel growls his displeasure and Danny can practically see his hackles going up. Danny does get it, somewhat, it's a crappy studio, and he should be able to do better at his age but Hawaii is expensive and he just moved across the country after a messy divorce.

"I don't want to hear it MacGarrett!" Danny orders, before Steve can voice his opinion about the apartment, "get undressed and get into bed!"

 The eyebrow really isn't necessary, but Danny doesn't comment pulling his shirt off instead, and after a moment of consideration his shorts as well. Steve looks like he's considering running, or at least protesting. Taking a chance, Danny steps closer and starts tugging at the hem of Steve's shirt, pleased when after a few moments of glaring the sentinel gives in and raises his arms to help get the fabric off. The shorts follow and Danny can't help admire Steve's lean body while pushing him towards the bed.

"Hope you like to cuddle," Danny sighs because the fold out couch is definitely not made for two grown men. Steve blinks up at him mutely but doesn't feel like he hates the idea. Despite the heat, having Steve wrap himself around him, feels extremely good, "and don't think we aren't finishing this conversation after I catch up on sleep," he threatens, getting comfortable.

"You're moving in with me," Steve mumbles against his chest like he hasn't been avoiding Danny for months. If Danny hadn't been sleep-deprived, his hackles would be going up—except, his place is a dump, and he wants to spend more time with Steve anyway—

"I'm paying rent, reasonable rent mind, but I'm paying rent," he decides to ignore the mutinous growl from the sentinel, "and we're going to date, like normal people, while probably also fucking because of the 'genetic throwback' thing," he scratches at the nape of Steve's neck and is rewarded by a soft nip on his shoulder.

"Ya listening, babe?" He pokes the sentinel in the ribs, just in case.

"I'm listening," Steve answers in a tone that makes it clear that he really isn't, but it's late and cuddling is nicer than fighting so Danny lets it go for the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for less smut and more feels

Steve's mouth goes dry at the sight of his partner balancing at the top of the ladder while cleaning the gutters. Danny glows in the morning sun, sweat glistening in the fur on his chest, his shirt already off and tucked haphazardly in the back of tight, worn jeans.

Steve wants to drag his guide off the ladder and lick him until Danny comes, or fucks him. At the very least, Steve wants to pin the man to the wall and lick the back of Danny's neck dry. Instead of doing all of that, Steve goes inside and shoves his head in the freezer.

Everything was supposed to settle after the bonding.

After he got Danny to move in, but Steve still _wants_ like they are still bonding. And that's after finding out his guide is kind of a slob, likes to sleep with the TV on, and hates pineapple, after all of that, Steve still wants to have sex with Danny _all the fucking time._

They do fuck, and it's good, but it isn't enough and it's killing Steve not to be greedy and be happy with what he already has—,"—I don't think the fridge needs cleaning, babe, unlike the roof." Danny says from right behind him, and Steve reacts without thinking...

"Let go of me, you animal!" Danny demands in his 'talk down the crazy man' voice, the one he uses on armed suspects and Steve when he's annoyed, surprisingly calm for someone with his face mashed into the kitchen counter and his arms twisted behind his back. Danny squirms in Steve's grip, ass rubbing distressingly against Steve's crotch, testing for weakness like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"You cannot sneak up on me, Danny!" Steve hisses, fighting the urge to grope or hump, "I can seriously hurt you, accidentally!" He twists Danny's arm further up his back to emphasize the point just a little more before letting the man go. Danny straightens up, check his hair, then rubs his wrist, rubbing Steve's fingerprints off his skin while glaring at him.

"That kind of implies I can sneak up on a S.E.A.L. trained sentinel, which is, let me tell you: worrying, especially since said sentinel seemed to be seeking the answer to life, the universe and everything in the fridge." Circling Steve, Danny nudges the fridge shut leaning against the metal door with a delighted sigh.

Steve squirms, the sound not helping his predicament in the slightest, "I already know the answer to life, the universe, and everything," he grumbles, "I got distracted."

"That, all it was?" Danny asks with suspicion, poking Steve in the ribs.

"I did not zone!" He growls, offended, ignoring that both of them have been waiting for it to happen for a while now.

"Yeah, I noticed with the being slammed into the counter," Danny frowns, sliding a hand under Steve's shirt, making Steve fight a shiver, "noticed something else too." Danny's hand wanders Steve's flank, nails scratching across his ribs pulling him closer until Steve has to close his eyes in embarrassment as his heavy dick digs into Danny's side.

"Sorry," he mumbles against Danny's hair, his mouth going dry.

"Just try to not get distracted around Grace, will you?" Danny asks all of a sudden, it's like a bucket of ice water gets upturned over Steve's head.

"I wouldn't!" He hurries to assure his guide because when Grace is around he doesn't get distracted—except that he _does,_  "I'll make sure the house is safe for Grace!" Even if that will mean spending his weekends at the Center every time Danny gets visitation so his guide doesn't have to worry.

"Why do I get the feeling that if I ask you exactly how you are planning on doing that, and you actually answer—I'm going to be doing a lot of yelling?" Danny asks casually, his hand finding it's way down to the small of Steve's back.

"I don't know?" Steve tries to pull away, but Danny's hand tightens on his ass.

"Steven!" He growls, and Steve slumps against the shorter man, his name in _that_ tone leaving him helpless and horny.

"—fuck," Danny groans, knocking his head against the fridge before Steve can get his hand between his guide and the metal, "no one told me it was going to be like this!" He complains, raking his nails down Steve's spine, "I wasn't this horny even as a teenager, and it's all your fault, somehow!" He slaps Steve's ass to emphasize his point, and the impact of the strong hand causes a full body shudder. Danny groans against his chest, manhandles Steve against the fridge, locking his mouth onto his neck to bite and suck a trail up to Steve's mouth.

Too busy sucking on Danny's tongue Steve misses losing his pants, and everything else, except the taste and feel of his guide until Danny pulls away with a curse, "—if it wasn't for my stupid ACL, I'd get to my knees and blow you right there, babe." He groans, taking Steve's dick in one hand, and balls in the other, massaging and stroking until Steve's legs tremble.

"I'm sorry," he gasps, promising himself that he'll stop, he'll back away just as soon as Danny lets go...

"You'll be sorrier if you don't march your ass up to the bedroom right this minute, mister!" Danny threatens, squeezing Steve's balls to almost the point of pain, just enough to make him squirm harder and drip.

He wants to protest: there are enough flat surfaces right where they are, and the bedroom is far away at the moment—, "no sex in the kitchen, that's just unhygienic! We eat off that table!" Danny tells him, reading his mind.

By 'we', Steve knows Danny doesn't mean them exactly, so he forces himself upright, draping over Danny's broad shoulders as his guide grumbles on, "besides, you have a perfectly functional bed, or 'we' have a perfectly functional bed which we are going to use like the adults we are!"

His dick trapped in Danny's hand, Steve allows himself to be lead up the stairs, reveling in the proximity of his guide. He takes a chance, pressing Danny against the wall for a long, slow kiss at the bedroom door, rubbing against the shorter man like a cat in heat.

Danny allows it to happen, bares his neck to Steve's lips and teeth, in fact, his hand tightening on Steve's dick every time he hits a sensitive spot.

"Good sentinel!" Danny pants as they finally make it through the bedroom door, hooking a foot behind Steve's ankle, to topple him onto the still wrecked bed, "now, tell me what you need, babe." It isn't exactly an order, but also not a request Steve can ignore, not that he knows how to answer. He needs Danny, needs his guide, needs to be wanted—he shrugs helplessly, reaching for Danny—who pulls him close, easily granting the contact Steve craves.

"Come on, babe," Danny urges, "it can' be that hard." He coaches, arching into Steve's hands, digging his nails into Steve's shoulders, touching, petting, offering himself to Steve like a banquet.

"I want—to make you feel good?" Steve tries, and at once knows that isn't what Danny wants to hear. He tenses, half expecting Danny to push him away now, go take a shower maybe instead of dealing with Steve's issues. What he doesn't expect, is to be pulled closer and kissed slow and thorough until he feels lightheaded.

"What am I going to do with you?" Danny sighs, scratching at the back of Steve's neck, which feels so good some of the tension he's been carrying around for what seems like forever actually disappears. He relaxes against Danny's side, molding himself to all the bare skin on offer. Danny grumbles and rearranges them a little, his hands never leaving Steve's skin, his half-hard dick slotting neatly against Steve's now that they are lying down.  

"Fuck me?" He asks against Danny's throat and is pinched on the ass for his trouble. 

"That's your answer to everything isn't it?" Danny huffs, massaging the place he's just pinched, "not that I don't enjoy it, but occasionally—," he trails off, "I can feel you, you know." Danny confides, and everything in Steve goes cold.

He can barely hear Danny continue to talk, "—and I get it, in a way—in a very, extremely freaky way, mind." Danny's hands tap out some kind of message on Steve's skin as he talks, it's almost Morse code, or maybe some kind of algorithm or—, "Steve! Don't freak out on me!" Danny pinches his ass again, and Steve raises his head to show that he's paying attention.

He doesn't expect the look of affection on Danny's face.

"I hate to bring this up considering our—," Danny waves his hand over the bed, "but did I ever tell you about Grace's birth?" The unexpected question makes the panic recede some, allowing Steve to answer.

"No?" And Danny nods, serious and solemn, even as his hands keep running across Steve's back.

"When she was born—that was it for me. I can't even explain it, but looking down at the tiny little face—I knew, KNEW she was mine and I'd kill and die for her, that she was the love of my life. I was pretty sure I wouldn't feel this way again, and then you happened—and I'm going to need loads of therapy now that I've compared you to my daughter, babe, but—," he shrugs, mouth opening and closing a couple of times as if he's trying to say something more before dropping his head back on the pillow with a frustrated huff.

Steve—hears every individual word, he hears the run-together sentences and the information they convey and yet—it takes him a while to digest the information, staring down at his guide who looks more uncertain with every second.

"Did I break you?" Danny wonders all of a sudden? "Or is this your normal reaction to someone telling you they are crazy about you?"

"I—," he doesn't know what to say, or how to say if for that matter, not that Danny seems to mind. Instead, he kisses Danny, tastes him as thoroughly as he can, smothering himself in the taste and scent of his guide, his dick hard and needy again against Danny's hit.

"We will be revising the topic of communication in relationships, just so you know!" Danny tells him when Steve has to pull away to catch a breath, but it doesn't sound like a threat, and he's reaching for the bedside table, shoving a tube of lube into Steve's hand, "after you fuck me!"

Steve decides, that he might just be able to do that, all of that.


	6. Chapter 6

His features are thrown in stark relief by the muzzle flash; jaw set, eyes icy—breath steady. Steve can barely see, dizzy as he is, and with one eye swollen shut. He follows Danny's heartbeat as he goes through the front rooms, mercilessly dispensing with Steve's captors one by one until the only human heartbeats Steve hears are Danny's and those of backup coming up the road. 

Danny checks the house one last time before returning to Steve. With the gun still in hand, it takes him a while to work the knots on Steve's restraints loose. He winces as Danny curses, knowing that he's gotten a good look at his wrists. Guilt knives through him, because he got caught, because he couldn't get free himself because Danny obviously doesn't like seeing him hurt. 

"Can you get up?" Danny asks, his voice strange, hoarse and overly controlled as he unties Steve's gag. 

"Yeah, yeah—I can," Steve hurries to assure him, forcing himself to stand despite his legs feeling weak. He manages and even starts to turn to finally get a proper look at his guide—when his knees betray him. Danny catches him, shoves a broad shoulder under Steve's arm taking some of his weight, carefully keeping his gun hand free. 

He doesn't lecture Steve about overestimating his abilities, which is worrying. Unfortunately, with others coming, it isn't the time or the place for—what exactly? Steve looks down at the bodies of two guards as Danny walks him out noting the center mass shots; Danny hadn't even tried to wound. 

Backup arrives by the time they make it to the porch, Kono, and Chin in the lead, jumping out of the car. He tries to stand up straighter, but Danny's hand tightens on his waist and Steve subsides with a sigh, raising a hand to wave at the rest of his team half-heartedly. 

"Stop!" Danny orders, raising his gun and the cousins stall abruptly at the bottom of the steps. 

"Danny!?" Kono asks raising her hands, she looks sleep deprived, so does Chin when Steve looks closely. He wonders if Danny has even tried to sleep, Steve isn't sure how long he'd been held but it's been more than 48 hours, guilt twists in his gut like a well-fed snake. 

"Danny, what the hell?" He asks as best he can, tongue thick and dry from the gag. 

"I—I can't— _no one is touching my sentinel_! I can't—," the mask Danny has been wearing breaks, and Steve looks down on something feral, that twists Danny's face into a savage snarl. 

Sentinels, Steve knows, go feral. 

It's part of the Center's education program; ways to recognize when it's going to happen, and how to contain a sentinel who's gone feral with and with a guide—but guides are never mentioned. Nothing in Steve's training has prepared him to deal with this, with a feral guide. 

"Danno?" He scans his guide, hating himself for not doing it sooner, for being too tired and sore—he hadn't noticed that Danny's blood pressure is still up, or the tension in his muscles, the way his guide still stinks of adrenaline. 

"My sentinel!" The New Jersey man growls, baring his teeth, the gun in his hand not wavering even as he digs his fingers painfully into Steve's side. 

"Yours," he agrees easily, trying to decide if it's safer to try to lure Danny back into the house or get him to the car. 

The house smells of blood and shit, gunpowder and pain. It's selfish, but Steve doesn't want to go back in—what he wants is his own bed, clean and quiet where he can wrap around Danny and rest knowing he's safe. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Chin hoisting a familiar gun, every cell in him screaming that he should warn Danny of the new threat. 

Steve kisses his guide instead, turns his head and shoves his tongue into Danny's mouth maneuvering so Danny presents the largest possible target. The betrayal in Danny's eyes as he goes down will haunt Steve's nightmares for the rest of his life. As the tranquilizers take effect, Steve struggles not to drop his guide. His knees hit the porch painfully as he follows Danny down, grabbing for the gun. 

Kono comes running, a bottle of water in hand which she throws at Steve while visually checking if Danny has come down alright. Steve gives her a tight smile, grateful that she isn't trying to touch. 

"If you find his keys, I can bring the car over," she offers softly after watching Steve empty the bottle, "Danny will be out for an hour or so, you have time to get checked out by the paramedics while Chin keeps watch." 

What she says makes sense, a lot of sense, but every cell of Steve's body wants to resist it, wants him to grab his guide and _run_ until he feels safe. They can take care of each other after all, they don't need anyone else to take care of things... 

"I need you to sedate me too," he orders conflicting urges crowding his mind, making thinking difficult—Kono looks and smells like she wants to argue, "I—I don't think I can deal with anyone touching him, or me—sedate me and get us to some remote cabin or somewhere! Just not the Center, don't take us to the Center!" He lies down, covering Danny with his body to make himself feel better, presenting his back to... 

The dart hits him in the ass, Steve barely manages to glare at Chin before the drug knocks him out. 


End file.
